


Trickster Trouble

by Majestic_Moonwolf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, Crossover, Dragons, F/F, F/M, I have never written sex scenes before so that's gonna be fun, I might force my ships on you, I might not post anything for months but I'll still be alive don't worry, I'm writitng those tags while listening to Christmas music and it's great, If they die in the books they really dead though, M/M, Magic, People might die but not really, People might or might not have sex, Swordfighting, There's probably gonna be sex, This might be one of the storys that might make the FBI question my browser history, a song of ice and fire - Freeform, direwolves, dracarys, loki is a little shit, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majestic_Moonwolf/pseuds/Majestic_Moonwolf
Summary: Loki sends the Avengers to a different world, where they'll have a hard time surviving, for this is a dangerous world, full of magical and strange creatures such as they have never seen before. I also publish this story on Wattpad.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Prologue

It was a dark and rainy day in upstate New York. Nothing seemed out of normal, except maybe for the man in the fancy black and green raincoat with golden buttons who walked amongst the trees in a seemingly deserted part of the state. Of course this was not as deserted as it seemed, it was only far away from the buildings and all the noise, a place to escape all the people and the dirty air. But as the man kept walking he came across a road and as he followed the road he eventually found a building, or more a few buildings. It looked to be something similar to a secret base. The man in the coat grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He was planning something, good or bad, that still remained to be seen as he approached the building carefully, hoping not to be seen.

This building wasn't your everyday secret base, oh no, far from that. This was the Avengers headquarters. And the man oh so carefully approaching it right now was the adoptive brother of one of the Avengers. A man who goes by the name of Loki, who was on his way to cause mischief, which was no more than usual for him. However, this was bad news for the Avengers of course, for if Loki had fun people usually got hurt and sometimes they even died. Luckily for them, he did not seem to be in a killing mood today, but rather more in a mood that would make him mess up your life and that of your children too. You wouldn't want to meet him in one of those moods either. Especially not on a rainy day like this, for his mood is likely to be ruined as well and his plans for you might be worse than they would have been if he was feeling better.

However, today he seemed to be in a pretty good mood, even despite the rain. He was about to pull a prank on the Avengers, that much was for sure, but what kind of prank this would be and how much it would affect their lives, that much was still uncertain, for now, although he certainly had something in mind, something that made him smile sneakily as he sneaked up the main building of the Avengers headquarters. He smiled even wider as he got in unseen, a great accomplishment even for him, for there were cameras all around the building that could spot him at any second. Being spotted would most certainly ruin the fun... for him. It might have been better for Earth's mightiest heroes if he had been detected.

He sneaked up to through the hallways to a canteen which the Avengers used after training. They would most likely been training now, so he was right on time to pull off his little trick and remain undetected. He know that they'd most likely drink something water based when they came here for lunch after training, so he bewitched the tap so it would make them fall asleep when they drank it's water, whether it be normal, boiled or used for coffee, sleep they would. Then he quickly hid himself, or more or less turned himself into a little spider to see what happened, for he heard noises on the halls. Footsteps, talking and laughter. Most likely the Avengers were making terrible jokes as they made their way to the canteen.

"You did a great job falling from the air vent, Clint," Loki heard Romanoff say. "Yeah, how about you don't mention that?" Barton replied. "Not my fault it looked so funny." "It didn't look funny to me." "That's because you saw it from an entirely different angle, it looked funny from our point of view, right guys?" The other Avengers all agreed with Romanoff. "Thanks guys, you're all being very helpful." "You're welcome, Clint," Stark told him, "anybody wants some coffee?"

Loki noticed now that it weren't just the Avengers who were in the building, there were a few other people as well, a few Asgardians amongst them, and some other people he had never seen before. However, they weren't the only ones he hadn't accounted for, for two of the extra people who were around were faces that he did know, one of which should be dead, for he had killed the man himself. That man being Phil Coulson, which he had stabbed with his scepter years back. The other familiar face was Fury's pet, a woman of whom he never really cared to know the name.

"Yeah, sure, I'd love coffee," Romanoff replied to Stark's question. "Anyone else?" "Black as my heart and bitter as my soul would suffice," Fury's pet replied. "Meaning she wants a little bit of milk and two sugar cubes," Barton translated. "Damn you, Clint, let me be dramatic for once." "Sorry, Maria." "So, milk and two sugar cubes?" "Yes..." "I'll take it black," Barton told Stark before he pulled a loaf of bread out of a cabinet so that they could use it to make sandwiches. Rogers, the "Captain" took meat and other stuff Midgardians but on their bread for lunch out of the fridge. A woman whom Loki didn't know, but who was clearly Asian boiled water to make tea. Someone clearly doesn't like coffee, Loki thought.

The people occupying the building sat down to have lunch. They ate sandwiches and drank either coffee or tea, which was fortunate for Loki, because that meant that his plan would work out the way he wanted it to work out. Everyone would fall asleep, not knowing what was happening, they would all be confused and they would be even more confused as soon as they'd wake up. Not knowing where they were and how they got there. Not knowing what had happened to them and how to get back, if they even could get back.

There would be a way back, of course, Loki would make sure of that, but there was only one way back and that was to play out the game. And this would be a long game, a game that might take them all some years, if they would survive till the end of course. If not they would be send into oblivion for a while until the game was over. In the meanwhile only a few hours would pass in the real world. He had it all planned out perfectly. Not he just needed to get them where he wanted. A dangerous place full of murderers, rapers, reavers, zealots, backstabbers and monsters. A world which some of them knew a little, but which was strange to others. A world in which they might turn out to be each other's enemies rather more than each other's friends. A world in which there was a threat... a threat from the dead.

This world could be the death of some of them,but of course they wouldn't die for real. Where would be the fun in killingpeople he secretly liked to mess with if he could save them to mess with forlater? There would be no fun in that, for they would all be dead and hewouldn't be able to mess with them. So instead of letting them die for realhe'd send them into a dimension he like to refer to as oblivion. A dimension inwhich time stood still. He'd setup a screen for them so they could watch astheir friends continued on their quests across this foreign land. There wouldbe popcorn for them, or potato chips, whichever they preferred. He would evenprovide them with drinks. But for now, for a while it would just be them inthat foreign land, in a foreign world in which they had to try to survive foras long as they could.


	2. Wanda

"Wanda, dear, it's time for breakfast!" Wanda slowly opened her eyes feeling as if she had just woken up from a bad dream. She tried to remember what she had dreamed about, but it was slowly slipping away from her, as if it had never existed. She sighed and turned over to lay on her other side. The furs she was laying beneath were too warm to abandon. "Wanda, wake up," her sister's voice called to her from the other side of the door. Her sister? For a second that didn't seem right, then Natasha's face appeared in her mind's eye and she remembered, of course she has a sister, three even. And a brother. Catelyn and Lysa had already been married off to wealthy lords, only Edmure, Natasha and Wanda herself remained in the castle with their father Hoster. And old man by now and in bad health. "Wanda if you don't get out of bed right now I'll go get Edmure to get you out," Natasha threatened. "I'm coming!" she answered.

The door opened to reveal Natasha just as Wanda was getting dressed. "Do you have to be so loud?" Wanda asked her. "I could have jumped onto you laying comfortably in your bed, would you have liked that better?" "Well, no." "Then yes, I have to be so loud." "And why is that?" "Have you forgotten?" "Have I forgotten what?" "The Hand of the King is dead, so the King is on his way to Winterfell, where he's probably going to ask Ned Stark to become his new Hand." "So? What has that to do with us?" "The King will stop here for today," Natasha explained patiently, although to Wanda it felt like she said it for the hundredth time, "we'll get to host him. So we need to look our best." "Isn't the King a fat man that likes to fuck young girls though?" "Wanda!" "You know I'm right." "Yeah... well... but the Lannisters are with him too." "Of course they are, one is his wife, another one is part of the Kingsguard." "Yeah, but they got a whole lot of cousins who are traveling with them." "And one of them is that Steven you adore since you saw him in a tourney?" "Well, maybe..." "Maybe?" "I don't know for sure, but he might be there." Wanda smiled at her sister, she had been "in love" with Steven Lannister, a handsome young man, who had seen seventeen name days, only two more than her sister, with blond hair and blue eyes, which is uncommon for a Lannister, since he had given her a red rose before a tournament. "Why are you smiling like that?" "You want to see Steven again because you think he's handsome, don't you?" "Well... does that matter?" "No. Maybe father can propose a match between the two of you." "As if the Lannisters would accept that. They're lions, we're just fish." "Well, you are very pretty." "You think that matters?" "To the Lannisters it does." "You know what? Just... shut up, okay?" "Yeah, okay, I'll shut up... for now." "Thank you, now get dressed. The King and his people will arrive soon and we'll have to look our best." "I'll try." "Thank you."

Natasha left her sister to get dressed, she wasn't alone for long though. Soon her maids joined her to help her. She chose to wear a beautiful dress in the Tully colors. Blue, a brownish red and silver. She knew her sister would be wearing the same colors, but since it was the colors of her house no one would think it strange. To be fair, Wanda never liked the Tully colors, especially not the brownish red, since it represented mud. Wanda never really liked mud, it was too dirty to her taste. The silver and the blue she didn't mind too much, but they weren't as pretty as say the red and gold of the Lannisters, or even the black and yellow of the Baratheons. Oh well, it could have been worse, Wanda thought, I could have been born a Stark, then my house colors would be grey and white. I can't imagine any colors that are more boring than grey and white.

When she was fully dressed she made her way to the big hall of their castle, where her brother and her sister were waiting for her. Their father would have been there as well if he had been in better health. Unfortunately he wasn't, so it was left to the three Tully children to host the King and his men, as well as the Queen, the princes and the princess. And maybe even the Queen's youngest brother, Tyrion Lannister, if he cared to show up. Wanda had heard that he liked to spend a lot of his time in brothels, or reading a boom alone in his chambers. She also heard that he could drink as much as the king himself, who had a reputation for drinking. She hoped he would show up this night, because she had never seen a dwarf before and she really wanted to see one once. She knew that a lot of dwarfs, who weren't born in rich families like Tyrion, became jesters or bards. However, jesters and bards almost never came to the Riverlands, which is why Wanda had never seen a dwarf before.

"Ah, Wanda, you're here. Good," Edmure said as she walked in through a back door. "Of course I'm here, we have to host the King, don't we?" "Yes, that we do. But... there's something I need to tell you and your sister." "What is it that you need to tell us?" Natasha asked him. Wanda just waited in silence for him to answer. Edmure sighed, "When the King leaves I'll be sending you two with him." "What?" Wanda asked in disbelief and surprise, "You can't mean that, right?" "I'm afraid that I do," Edmure said," father can't look after the two of you anymore." "You can look after the two of us," Wanda optioned. "I can't, I have to look after the Riverlands. I can't look after the two of you as well." "Father could," Natasha mentioned. "Yes, but I'm not father." "Clearly." This statement angered Edmure, "Listen to me now an listen closely. I will be sending you to Winterfell, where Cat will look after you and that's the end of it!" Neither Natasha nor Wanda were happy to hear this. "But we haven't seen Cat in years," Wanda complained. "She is still your sister and you're going, That's the end of it."

The news of having to leave the Riverlands was a shock to Wanda and not only because it meant having to leave her sick and quite likely dying father. It also came as a shock to her because she had never left the Riverlands before and she never thought she would have to leave, before getting married to a man of a wealthy house, or maybe a knight. As every young girl she had dreamed of marrying a handsome strong knight. She knew it couldn't be too bad, of course, she was only one year older three years older than Cat's oldest daughter, she might befriend her niece. And she still had her sister, Natasha. Wanda and Natasha had always been close, since there was only a one year difference between them, well, more or less anyway, it was closer to fourteen months. She thought of trying to befriend Robb, since they were of an age. But eventually she decided that that might be a little weird.

The doors of the great hall opened just as Wanda imagined herself living in the cold chambers of Winterfell, freezing while it was snowing outside. She knew it was exaggerated and that imagining Winterfell as some cold and freezing place wouldn't make it any easier for her to go there, but she didn't know hoe else to think of it. She had heard that it could snow there during the summer, it must be a really cold place. Why else would it snow in the summer? She wondered. She didn't have much time to linger on the subject though, for at that moment the arrival of the King was announced and the feast began.

Wanda wasn't surprised that there was a feast. Even if you take into consideration that they almost never hosted feats. It was the King who stayed here for the night. They had to give him a feast or he might take it as an insult and they wouldn't want to insult the King even more than they already did, for they were afraid that he wouldn't like it to not see Hoster there to welcome him to his hall. Luckily this fear was ungrounded. Robert understood that Hoster couldn't come out because he was sick. "That's quite unfortunate. I hope that he'll feel better soon," Robert said when Edmure told him the news, "but let's not linger on the bad news for too long. I'm hungry and I have a thirst." "We have brought up the best ale from our cellar for you, your Grace." "Ah, that's kind of you, Lord Edmure." "You're welcome, your Grace."

That night was one of the longest nights Wanda ever had to sit through. Especially since she and Wanda had to try to keep the princes and the princess busy and entertained. Princess Myrcella and prince Tommen were both very sweet and well behaved. Joffrey was a little rougher, but he seemed gallant enough. He was quite handsome as well and showed interest in both Wanda and Natasha. He even told both of them that they were very pretty and that beauty must run in the family. "At least on the female side," he added. "Well, thank you," Natasha said. "You look very handsome yourself," Wanda told him, not knowing what else to say. "It's kind of you to say so, my lady." It wasn't really, it was just common courtesy, besides, everyone could see it, or so Wanda thought.

When eventually the night was over Wanda and Natasha walked to their rooms together, talking about the princes and the princess. "He really is quite handsome, isn't he?" Wanda said. "Yes, he is, he looks nothing like his father. Lucky for him." "Yeah, very lucky for him." His father turned out to be a fat drunk, as they had already heard, still, they had wanted to see for themselves. "He's got the Lannister looks," Natasha said. "Yes, he sure got his looks from his mother's side." "Hey, you think the other rumors about the King are true?" Natasha whispered. "Which other rumors?" Wanda replied in a hushed tone. "Well... that he's got bastards in all seven Kingdoms." "Well... how could I know, I don't know him well enough to judge." "Well... I think they might be true. Did you see him, he was kissing other women in front of the Queen, and he put his hands under their bodices and all..." "Yeah... I did see that." "And the Queen saw it and she just... sat there. It's like she's given up on stopping him from doing such things. I can't imagine what she must feel like." "Yeah, that is quite sad indeed." "It sure is. And it's probably quite hurtful for the Queen."

They arrived at Wanda's room, just as they changed the topic of their conversation. "Can you believe that we have to leave tomorrow?" Wanda asked her sister. "Honestly, I find it quite hard to believe, especially since we're going all the way north to Winterfell. It's so far away from home." "Yes... it is. And I fear that if we leave now we won't see father alive anymore." "I don't want to think about that right now, Wanda." "It is a very real possibility." Natasha sighed, "I know it is, I just don't want to think about it." Wanda opened the door of her room and her sister almost left, but before she could Wanda said, "Natasha?" Natasha turned to her, "Yes?" "Do you want to stay here with me tonight?" "You want to spend our last night at home together?" "It might make it easier." Natasha nodded, "Sure, I'll stay here with you." "Thank you."

The next morning when the sun was still at the horizon Edmure woke them up to tell them they had to pack their belongings. He send both of them their maids so they had help with packing, since it had to happen quickly if they wanted to ride with the King's vanguard. "Have you already send Cat a raven?" Wanda asked them before he left. "I had planned to do so this morning," he replied. "And you're sure it will arrive there before we do?" Natasha asked doubtfully. "Well, a raven is way quicker than a hoard of people like this one," Edmure said with what had to be a reassuring smile. "What if the raven dies on its way to Winterfell?" Natasha asked. "It would be nice if you stopped doubting me, sister. Now get packing." Natasha turned to Wanda as Edmure walked off, "You think Cat will expect us?" "I hope so, I have trust in our ravens." "Well... they're still animals." "They're smart for animals." "That might be true, but they can't defend themselves from an arrow." "And who would shoot it? The realm is at peace, sister, we'll be fine." Natasha nodded. "And Edmure is right, we both should get to packing our things."

After she was done packing and her maids had brought her belongings to a carriage Wanda went to saddle her horse. She always liked to do that herself, for she found that it created a stronger bond between horse and rider. Her horse was a beautiful reddish brown palfrey, Wanda had called her magic. She didn't know why exactly, maybe it was because she had always been fascinated by magic, even if it probably didn't exist. Just the thought of something indescribable was fascinating enough to spark her interest. Natasha had always preferred the stories of knights over the stories of magic and fair ladies. And not the stories on which the knights saved the pretty ladies, no, she liked the ones in which the noble knights slayed the dragons and all other kinds of beasts. Natasha had always been interested in swords and fighting, but at the same time she also liked to wear pretty dresses and some other more feminine things, like talking about boys. She was a strange one, her sister.

She found Natasha at the stables, she too liked to saddle her own horse. Natasha rode a black palfrey named Widow. Wanda had once asked her why she had called her horse Widow. Natasha has simply replied with, "It seems appropriate for a black mare. Widows wear black too, right?" "They do," Wanda had agreed, "but only when they're mourning their lost husbands." "Yes, but does one really ever stop mourning the death of someone they loved. They ladies in the stories never stop mourning their brave knights." "I thought you didn't care for such stories." I don't, I just wanted to use an example you would understand." "Of course you did."

As the sisters were saddling their horses two young men walked over to them. Steven Lannister and his older brother, Thor Lannister. "Good morning my ladies," Thor greeted them. He was a handsome man with fair hair and blue eyes, much like his younger brother Steve. He also had a beard that matched the color of his hair. Something his younger and less muscular brother didn't. Thor was only three years older than Steven, but he was already married to a southern lady called Lady Sif of Dalt. His wife was probably in Lemonwood at the moment, since she didn't seem to be anywhere near. It was said that if Thor and Sif were in the same place that they were always together. "Good morning," Natasha replied. "I heard that the two of you would be riding in the vanguard today," Steven said, "would you like to ride with us, my fair ladies?" Wanda saw her sister smile. "Of course we would like to ride with such handsome men as you," she said as she was staring at Steve. Thor saw it, looked at Wanda, pointed at them and winked. Wanda nodded in reply.

And so it came that they rode together with the Lannister brothers, some of the Queen's cousins, sons of Kevan Lannister, who is a brother of Tywin Lannister. They even got to meet one of the most famous Lannisters, namely, Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard in his pretty white cloak. Wanda found him to be as handsome as described. Surely it must run in the family, she thought. Jaime was courteous but a little cocky. People probably forgive him for that because he's so handsome and because he's said to be such a great fighter. Maybe I'll get to see him fight one day, that would be interesting. "Are you daydreaming my lady?" Thor asked her when he caught her staring off into the distance. "Uh... yes." "What about?" "I wondered if I'd ever get to see your cousin fight." "Jaime you mean? Do you like tournaments?" "Yes, I do, but I have only been at a few of them." "Well, Jaime fights at a lot of tournaments, if you keep going to them chances are that you might see him once." "Well, it seems I should go to more tourneys then."

They rode for a whole day and made camp at a small inn somewhere close to the Kingsroad. Wanda and Natasha got to share one of the inn's rooms together. They didn't mind having to share a room together, they shared a room till Natasha flowered for the first time. Which means they had shared a room for twelve years. They actually missed each other sometimes, but they would never admit that in front of their father, or their brother for that matter, but that didn't matter now. Now they shared a room again, probably just for a while, but it was comforting to have each other on this long journey to Winterfell.

"Well... this is it huh?" Natasha said as theywere both lying in bed, "The big day on which we leave everything that'sfamiliar behind." "Well, not everything." "That's true, we still got eachother." "Yes, we still got each other. That is what matters most now." "Family,duty, honor." "Family, duty, honor," Wanda repeated. "Family is the mostimportant." "Which is why it's weird that Edmure send us away, isn't it?" "Maybehe thinks Cat could do a better job at raising us." "Maybe he does." "Let'sjust be glad he didn't send us to Lysa, she just lost her husband and I wouldn'twant to interfere with her grief." "Yes, me neither." "I do wonder how littleRobert is doing." "Yes, so do I." Robert, their nephew was the only son oftheir sister, Lysa Arryn and her husband Jon Arryn, the Lord of the Eyrie. "Nowthat Jon is dead, does that mean that Robert is the Lord of the Eyrie?" Wandaasked her sister. "I'd pity the people of the Eyrie if he is." "Yes, Robert issickly, he wouldn't make for a strong Lord." "No, he wouldn't, not yet atleast, maybe he'll outgrow his shaking sickness as he gets older." "I don'tknow if that's possible." "it might be possible." "Yes, it might be. I surelyhope so for Robert's sake that it is possible." "Yes, so do I."

The next morning they had to get up early again to travel with the King's vanguard and again they rode with the two Lannister brothers. Natasha and Steven seemed to really like each other, even Thor saw that. "Maybe my father could propose a match." "Between your brother and my sister?" Wanda asked him. "Well, yes, they seem to be bonding, don't they." "Yes, they sure do." "He would have to go all the way back to Riverrun if he wanted to do that, but it might be worth it." "Yes, it sure might be." "How about you, have you met a man of your interest yet?" "Not yet no, but I'm sure I'll find one one day. I mean... I don't want to end up alone, so I just have to believe that he is out there somewhere." Thor laughed, "I like your spirit, young lady. It is very entertaining." "Is it?" Thor nodded. Right at that moment Steven handed Natasha his sword so she could admire it. "Be careful with that," Thor told her, "that's castle forged steel." "I've held a sword before," Natasha replied. Suddenly she gave Widow a light kick and she galloped off. "Hey, that's my sword!" Steven yelled after her. "Come and get it!" Natasha seemed to be practicing cuts from horseback as Widow kept galloping. "Is this normal?" "For Natasha? Yes, it is. She used to watch Edmure when he was taught how to fight and she practiced with a blunted sword all on her own." "That's... interesting. Not very ladylike, but interesting." Wanda shrugged, "It's Natasha."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm putting them in families based on their looks and because I can. Maybe I'm gonna put the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. in this story, that'll be fun. Anyway, here's chapter one... Enjoy it I guess.


	3. Maria

She had been travelling for weeks and she had quickly grown weary of it. But as a sister of the King, Maria Baratheon had to come along on a journey such as this, even if she hated travelling in big hoards like this. At least she was allowed to ride. Her brothers had preferred for her to ride with the Queen, prince Tommen and princess Myrcella, but Maria had not wanted that. She preferred to ride, it made the travelling at least a little more interesting. Especially because she could see the surroundings. Maria didn't like to be locked up in a wagon with almost no one to talk to and nothing to do. She could talk to the Queen of course, but she found the Queen to not be that interesting at all. The same went for Tommen and Myrcella. Sure, they were sweet, but they were young and boring as well. Maria preferred to be amongst the knights, who were delighted to have her in her company. She liked knights and she had always wished she could be one, of course her mother, her father and her brothers had told her she couldn't. Well, maybe there was one brother who didn't discourage her and who had taught her how to use a sword, a dagger and a bow and arrow, but he had done that behind the backs of all others. It was no miracle Renly was her favorite brother.

Two days after they stayed at Riverrun she rode too far away from the royal carriage, again, and she was fetched, again, by Jaime Lannister. "Do I really have to stay with those stupid guards?" She asked Jaime as he brought her back. "Well, yes, you do. You have to stay with me and all the other stupid guards who are only here to protect the royal family, of which you are a part. You're making it quite hard for us as well." "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you." "It's fine." "I just don't like travelling with those..." "Stupid guards?" "Well, yes, them." "Yeah, I get it. Robert already told me you had some of his spirit." "Ugh." "What? You don't like hearing that?" "Would you like to be compared to my brother?" "Well, no." "See?" Jaime shrugged, "He was a formidable fighter when he was younger." "Yeah, I heard that." "You were too young to remember now." "I'm sixteen, I had seen two name days when the war started, of course I'm too young to remember." "That's a sadness." "Maybe it is." 

Together they passed two of Jaime's cousins who were riding with two girls who seemed to be around Maria's age. "Who are they?" she asked Jaime. "They are the youngest of the Tully's. Natasha and Wanda." "Tully's? Why are they travelling with us? I mean, didn't we leave Riverrun behind two days ago?" "Yes, we did. Edmure is sending them to his sister Catelyn Stark." "Oh, right, his sister married Ned Stark." Maria didn't think too much of the girls, until one of them send her horse into a gallop and rode off with Steven's sword. "Does that amuse you?" Jaime asked when he saw her smile. "A little." "Maybe I should leave you here with those girls then." "Uh.." "What? They're close to your age, maybe you can make some friends." "Yeah, friends, hurray." Maria had never had much friends, and not just because she wasn't as lady like as the other ladies. She thought it was also because she was a sister of the King and they were afraid of her, just a little. Maybe they were afraid of the consequences that could follow of they'd hurt her on accident. They all thought she was very well protected because she had three brothers and because she was the sister of the King himself. Well, they were quite wrong at that. Yes, Maria had three brothers, but Robert cared more for Ned Stark than for his real siblings, Stannis... he had a cold personality, was miles away from them at any time and Maria wasn't sure if he was capable of love... Then there was Renly, the only one of her brothers who actually looked out for her and seemed to care about her. No wonder she was so close to Renly. It saddened that he wasn't here with them. Renly had stayed in Kings Landing while she had been forced to come along. 

It took her some time to realize that Jaime had left her side and that she was now riding behind his cousin Thor, who seemed to be guarding one of the Tully sisters. "Damn you Jaime," she mumbled. Thor seemed to hear her, for he turned to her and smiled, "My Lady Maria, what a delight to see you." She nodded as if to greet him. Tully turned as well, "You're Lady Maria Baratheon," she said in surprise. Clever one, that one. Maria smiled at her nevertheless, "Yes, I am. What's your name, my Lady?" "Wanda Tully. Pleased to meet you." "The pleasure is mine, I have heard a lot of the beauty of the Tully sisters. I can see that what they said was true." It was common courtesy, Wanda knew that as well as Maria did herself. "Thank you, but my beauty doesn't hold against yours, my lady." That's something I haven't heard before. Surely, your hair is way prettier than mine." "Yes, but your eyes are a lovely shade of blue, my lady." "It makes for an interesting contrast with your hair, my lady, as it does with both of your brothers," Thor said. "Please don't compare me to Robert," Maria told him. "I'm sorry my lady, did I offend you?" "A bit." "Young women don't like it to be compared to their brothers," Wanda said to Thor. "That's not it," Maria told her, "I just don't like to be compared to that fat drunk of King." Wanda gasped. "I know what you're thinking. How dare I speak of the King or even of my brother like that? Well, the thing is, I face the truth and the truth is that my brother is fat and that he's drunk most of the time." 

Right at that moment Steven came back, sword in hand and the other Tully sister riding beside him, "Lady Maria, what a delight to see you here," he said. "Steven, nice to see you." "How have you been while we travelled all the way from Kings Landing to Riverrun?" "Bored most of the time." "Doesn't sound very pleasant." "No, it wasn't." "You're the sister of the King, aren't you?" The other Tully sister, who must be Natasha to Maria's beliefs, asked her. "I am." "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you my lady, I'm Natasha Tully." Maria took looked her over, and Wanda as well, they seemed familiar to her, then she blinked and the feeling was gone, "Nice to meet you, my lady." "It's nice to meet you too, my lady... or... do I have to call you princess, since you are the sister of the King?" That was Maria's official title, but she didn't care too much for titles. "I prefer to be called my lady." Princess sounded too girly to Maria's ears anyway. Natasha nodded, "Lady it is then." "Thank you." 

They all rode their horses in silence for a while. To Maria it was as if they didn't dare to speak freely anymore now that she was amongst them. That happened more often. It's not easy, being the sister of the King, she thought. People are afraid to say what's on your mind when they're around you. They're afraid you'll tell your brother, the King. Maria sighed. "Is something wrong," Thor asked her. "No," Maria said quickly. She didn't think anyone would care to hear about her woes anyway. "Don't you have a story to tell, Thor?" "You know that it's Ser Thor, right?" "Yes, sorry, I keep forgetting, ser." "It's fine, princess... uh, my lady." "Do you have any interesting stories?" "None that you haven't heard yet, my lady. I'm sorry." "It's alright. I should have known that I have heard all your stories. But maybe the ladies Tully would like to hear how you earned your knighthood." "Oh, yes please," Natasha said eagerly. "I guess that could be amusing, yes," Wanda said. Thor smiled and started to tell the story of how he became a knight. It was quite a long story that Maria had heard many times before, but she didn't mind hearing it again. In fact, she quite liked the story. 

Thor had become a knight by slaying a mystery knight who had turned out to be a Blackfyre, the last of his kind if the stories were to be believed. It might not seem like much of an accomplishment, but it was a very strong knight, and Robert hated everyone who was even slightly related to the Targaryens, so he knighted Thor for his achievement. Maria always thought Thor had been brave for taking on this knight when he was only seventeen years old and she wondered if Steve would ever be as much of a man as his brother. He was good at jousting, but how good would he be at the battlefield. Their other brother, Lancel, she didn't have much trust in. He was arrogant and knights shouldn't be arrogant. They should be brave and willing to help others, or at least that's what Maria thought. 

They rode together till nightfall. This time there was no castle or tavern near, so Maria had to sleep in her tent. She didn't mind sleeping in her tent all that much, except that she had to get up earlier so her servants could take the tent down. She would have been okay with setting it up and taking it down herself, but "A lady doesn't do that. And especially not a princess." Maria had always thought that that was horseshit. How could she ever learn to be independent if they didn't even let her set up and take down her own tent? Or let her get dressed on her own for that matter. Maria hated it. She hated it to be treated like she was special, for she didn't feel special at all. She just felt like a normal girl with no friends who had servants to do all the things she didn't need help with or wanted to do herself, like brushing her own hair. Gods, I hate it when they won't let me brush my own hair. She send her handmaids away quite a lot, but her brother had forbidden it now. He didn't care for her that much, the fat oaf, or at least he didn't seem to, but he did care that she behaved like a proper lady. And proper ladies don't send their handmaids away to brush their own hair and lace up their own bodices. 

That night sleep didn't come easy to Maria. She had to share her tent with her handmaid, which wouldn't have been so bad if her snoring didn't sound like the grunting of a really big really loud pig. She turned and turned, but she didn't seem to be able to fall asleep. Eventually she put on a nightgown and went outside. There she found Tyrion, close to a campfire. He was reading a book, like he tends to do. Not many people know that Tyrion tends to read a lot, they think he's just a drunk little dwarf. Granted, he drinks a lot, but he also likes to read a lot. She tried to sneak past him, nut he noticed, for he said, "Where are you going?" She sighed and turned to him, "I just wanted to walk around the camp." "In the middle of the night?" "I can't sleep." He looked at her, "The middle of the night is a dangerous time for a princess to be alone, even in a camp." "So?" "So? You could be raped, that's so..." "Really now? I'm the princess, people don't dare to hurt me out of fear for Robert." "Ah, yes, but they can pretend they mistook you for someone else, since the middle of the night is very dark." "And you think Robert would believe that? Or let them go if they told that lie?" "No. Of course not. I just want to spare you from being raped, that's all." Maria glared at him. "Maybe you can join me at the fire. It's nice and warm over here." "What if I don't want to?" "I'm not gonna stop you, you could easily outrun me. But like I said, camps are dangerous." Maria considered his words and eventually decided that she was cold, so it wouldn't hurt to sit down at the fire. Tyrion didn't look at her, but he did talk to her. "You're weary of traveling, aren't you?" Maria agreed, "It has been a long journey." "And it isn't over yet." "No... and then we have to go back again. I don't see the use in this, why would Robert want to take me along on this?" "Well... Ned Stark has a son, he's two years younger than you, but that never mattered much." "What do you mean? You mean he wants to propose a marriage?" "Two, actually, one between you and Ned's eldest, and one between Ned's oldest daughter and Joffrey." "How do you know this?" "Because it make sense. Why else would he bring you along?" Maria thought on that for a while. What Tyrion said did make sense. "You think it would matter to Robert if I told him I don't want to get married to Ned's son." "Well... not before you met him." "I already know that I don't want to get married to him." "And why is that?" "Because I don't want to be forced into marrying someone I don't know." "Well... I'm afraid it won't matter. You're a woman, you're sixteen, everyone thinks it's about time you get married." "Everyone can hang if they think that." Tyrion smiled, "You are an interesting young lady who uses very unladylike language." 

Maria sat there with Tyrion for a while longer, staring off into the fire until Tyrion handed her a skin. "What's in it?" She asked. "Wine," Tyrion answered. "It might help you sleep." "Why would I want to sleep." "Tomorrow is going to be a long day with a lot more travelling. You will want to be rested." She nodded, took the wineskin and drank. Only a few mouthfuls. "You're going to need more than that if you want to sleep properly," Tyrion said to her. "Are you sure?" "I'm an expert on drinking yourself to sleep, not that you should do that, it's not all that healthy, but just a few more swallows will make you feel sleepier." Maria decided that he sounded like he knew what he was saying, so she drank some more. Not much later she started to feel lightheaded and a little sleepy. She had never drank so much wine before, so the effect was new to her. "I feel weird," she said to Tyrion. "Good, that means it works, now off to bed you go." She nodded and did as she was told. 

The next morning everyone had to wake up at the crack of dawn. Something Maria wasn't particularly happy with. She was well rested, but she had a light headache. She didn't know if it was the wine or the thought of what she had heard last night, that her brother would want to wed her to Robb Stark. In her dreams of the night he had looked like a young stubborn faced man with dark yellow eyes, like a wolf and the reddish hair of his mother. It was said that most of the Stark children had their mother's hair. He had been gloomy and cold towards her in her dream and she dreaded to hear her brother say that he was indeed going to propose a marriage, but she wanted to know for certain, so she decided to ride with him today. A decision she would come to regret later that day. 

"Good morning brother," she said as she rode up to him. He smiled at her and nodded in greeting, "Good morning. I see you managed to rise this early." "I'll admit it was hard on me." "Yes, lord Tyrion told me you couldn't sleep last night." "He told you?" "Yes, he also told me he gave you wine so you could sleep. Not the best method, but it's useful." "He didn't tell you what we talked about, did he?" "He told me you were weary from the journey and don't look forward to having to travel all the way back to Kings Landing when our business is done in Winterfell." "Well, can you blame me? There are too many people on this journey. It's all thanks to them that we're moving so slow and that it's taking so long. That's tiring and boring." Robert laughed, "You remind me a little bit of myself when I was your age, I never had much patience either." "Yes, Renly told me some stories about that." "Of course he did, that's what brothers are for, to tell bad stories about you to your little sister." "I wouldn't say they're that bad. And I'm not little anymore." "That's true enough, you're a maid of sixteen." "Indeed." "It would be about time that you get married." "What?" "I have thought about it for a long while and I want to propose a match between you and Robb Stark, as well as between Joffrey and Sansa." "But... wouldn't that be weird? I mean, my own nephew would be married to my sister in law." "That stuff happens." "You think Ned will accept." "I don't see why not." "I'm older than his son, he's still a boy." "But you're fertile, that's what matters." "Really?! That's what matters?!" "Yes, that's what matters." "And what if I don't want to get married to this stupid Robb Stark." "You think I wanted to marry Cersei? I didn't have a choice. If you're lucky Robb is loyal, like his father, he's likely a good lad." "Likely..." "Now quit complaining. When we get there I will propose the match and if Ned accepts you will do as I say." 

Maria's mood turned sour after that conversation. Tyrion had been right, Robert was planning to marry her off to a Northman. It mean she would have to live in Winterfell, in the cold from the day she married him, it meant she would be the lady of Winterfell. She wanted neither of those things. She wanted to see the land, all seven kingdoms her brother ruled over, she didn't want to be stuck in one place, especially not one as cold as Winterfell. However, she knew that complaining wouldn't help her. It would only make Robert angry and she didn't want to anger him. She did want to change his mind, but she didn't know how to go about it. 

The rest of the day she rode next to her brother in silence, not knowing what to do or say. Robert joked and laughed and drank, but he didn't seem to notice the change in his sister's mood. He was too busy telling the story of how he fought Rhaegar for the so manieth time. Maria had heard this story at least twenty times by now, but people loved to ask him about how he conquered Rhaegar and Robert loved to tell them how he killed the prince. And he never forgot to mention why he did it. Lyanna Stark. Robert had been in love with the lady Stark since he met her, but she was kidnapped and raped by Rhaegal. Because of that Robert and Ned, who was Lyanna's brother, rebelled against the throne. Maria always thought that the victory wasn't fully Robert's though. He wouldn't have won without the help of Jaime Lannister and his father, the famed Tywin Lannister. It was his army that took Kings Landing and it was Jaime who had slain the Mad King Aerys. True, Jaime was of the Kingsguard and he stabbed him in the back, but that victory wasn't Robert's, and it never would be. 

Sometimes Maria wondered why Jaime, whom people called the Kingslayer, because of him killing King Aerys, hadn't claimed the Iron Throne for himself. Maybe he was afraid of accidentally cutting himself on the ugly misshapen thing. Or maybe he knew that the people of the seven kingdoms would not accept a King who murdered his successor by stabbing him in the back while he was sworn to protect him. A lot of people still mistrusted him for just that and they wondered why he was still a part of the Kingsguard. As for Maria, she was too young to remember the reign of King Aerys, but from the stories she had been told about him she had gathered some knowledge about him and she had decided that he was indeed mad and that Jaime had done them all a favor by slaying the man. No matter in what way he had done it. However, she did not trust him, she had learned quite early on that one would be stupid to trust a Lannister, even if he was a knight, Jaime had still killed the man he was sworn to protect... She understood the duality of the situation and how it could confuse people, like herself. 

They rode for many more days till they reached another castle, which, frankly annoyed Maria to the point of being in a bad mood for at least five days. But eventually they came upon a small castle that existed out of two towers, The Twins, it was called and it was the keep of house Frey. No one was happy to be here, but it was close to nightfall, so they would either have to make camp here and risk being awoken by a host of Frey's the next morning, or Robert would go in and ask Walder Frey for permission to stay at his castle for the night. Robert chose the latter and he had aria come with him. "You might need to negotiate with this man one day," he told her, "you better know how to do it. 

Walder Frey turned out to be well over ninety and Maria wondered what all the fuss was about. That was until the negotiating started. Frey wanted several of his sons and grandsons to join their column so they could be squires to knights, so that they themselves eventually could become knights. Maria thought they would make better weasels than knights, but she didn't mention that out loud, at least not with Walder Frey around. Frey also tried to propose a wedding between one of his daughters and Joffrey, but Robert said a match had already been made, after which Frey asked about a match for Myrcella. Robert said he would think on it. This clearly did not satisfy Frey, but he did not dare to go against the King. "As you wish, Your Grace. You and yours are welcome to stay in my halls for the night." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you like this please leave kudos or a comment. I'm just really insecure about my writing skills... sorry...


	4. Peter

“Cousin Peter,” Bran Stark yelled as he ran towards him. Peter turned to see what was going on, “Oh, hey Bran, what is it?” “A man is to be beheaded, a deserter from the Night’s Watch. Father thinks that you should come along with us.” “Uncle wants me to come see a beheading?” Bran nodded. “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?” Peter said with a smile, “Let me find my dad first.” “I already told uncle Anthony,” Bran said. “Of course you did, well, I dos till need to get my horse ready. You coming with me? We could saddle our horses together.” Bran nodded, he would gladly go along with his older cousin. Peter and the Stark boys were so close, they were almost like brothers. Maybe it was because he and Robb were the same age, or maybe it was because he didn’t have any real brothers, so he grew really close to his male cousins. Peter did have an older sister named Darcy, and his mother, Virginia, was pregnant again, form the way she carried the Maester thought it would be another girl. He was glad to have some male cousins to play, fight and train with. He could be a boy that way, even if he was almost a man grown.   
At the stables they found Robb and Jon, saddling their horses, talking to each other about the deserter. It was only when Peter greeted them that they were noticed. “Brother, cousin,” Robb said, “Are you coming along as well?” “Yes,” Bran said, “father says I’m old enough and he told me to tell Peter that he was coming too.” “Well, I am almost a man grown,” Peter said proudly. You’re still younger than me,” Robb said teasingly. “Only three moons.” “I’m still older.” “Well, that might be true, but…” “But what?” “I uhm… I’m smarter, I’m a better reader and writer.” “I’m a good swordsman.” “So am I.” “You boys are forgetting me,” Jon said, “I’m as old as you are.” “I’m older than you too,” Robb said in the same teasing tone. Jon rolled his eyes, “I know that, but age doesn’t matter, especially not when the difference is so small. We’re all the same age.” “I’m almost a man grown too,” Bran brought up. Peter smiled at him, “Yes, you are.” It wasn’t really true, not according to Peter. Bran was still a child, only seven years old. He had never seen a winter, not a real winter, only summer snows.   
The boys saddled their horses and made for the gate, where they found Ned and Anthony waiting for them. They both greeted the boys with a nod. The boys greeted them as well, “Father, uncle.” They all said. “did you practice that?” Anthony asked them. Ned was amused by the synchrony as well. “We didn’t,” Peter told his father, “it just happened.” “Of course it did,” Anthony said with a wink. “Fatheeeeeer.” Ned smiled for a few seconds, then he turned into lord Eddard Stark and he was fully serious again. To Peter there was a difference between uncle Ned and lord Eddard Stark. Lord Eddard Stark looked colder somehow, less open, less friendly and more serious. Which is a miracle, considering the fact that uncle Ned was already a very serious man. Of course, he could joke from time to time, but he wasn’t as good at it as uncle Benjen. Uncle Benjen, Peter’s uncle in the nights watch and the youngest Stark brother, was Peter’s favorite uncle.   
“We should go,” lord Eddard said when Theon arrived. Theon was lord Eddard’s ward. Peter didn’t like him that much, he was a little arrogant from time to time, but apart from that he was fine, Peter just never liked arrogant people. Theon’s arrogance probably came forth out of the fact that he was five years older than Stark’s heir. Or maybe it was just a Greyjoy thing, Peter had not figure out which of the two reasons was the actual reason yet. At least Theon wasn’t arrogant all of the time, he did know how to show respect, even towards the younger Stark boys, except for Jon, because of Jon’s bastard’s status. Yes, it’s probably just his age, Peter concluded.   
They rode off towards where the deserter would be executed. Bran looked nervous, so Peter rode up to him to comfort him. “This is your first execution, isn’t it?” Bran nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been there too.” “How old were you?” “I was only two years older than you are now.” “Have you seen a lot of executions?” Peter shook his head, “No, not many people are foolish enough to desert the Night’s Watch.” Bran nodded, “Good. They protect us.” “Yes, they’re all that stands between us and grumkins and snarks. Well, them and the wall of course.” “Are you saying that the Night’s Watch isn’t important?” “Of course they are, they keep the wildlings at bay. We wouldn’t want them to come raiding here, now would we?” Bran shook his head, “No, we wouldn’t. What is it like, an execution?” “I’m not going to lie to you, it’s quite bloody.” “Is it scary?” “Well… it’s not something I like to see, that’s for sure, but it’s more gross than scary.” “Oh.” “Hey, don’t worry, okay? It’ll be over real quick and we can go back home and all. It’s just… your father’s duty. And one day when Robb is the lord you’ll have to go along with him like my father goes along with yours.” Bran nodded, “Yes, I, will.” “just think to yourself that this is a rare occasion, that always helps.” “Thank you, Peter,” Bran said looking a little better than he had before.   
As they came to the execution site several guardsmen, the men who had found the deserter, were waiting for them. The deserter himself didn’t look like much. He was dressed in all black, like any man of the Night’s Watch would be. He didn’t look strong or anything, more ragged than knightly. He probably looks like that because he has travelled all the way from the wall to here in the same clothes, without a proper bath, Peter thought. Bran didn’t seem to be impressed by the deserter either. He probably expected a much more scary looking man, peter thought.   
The man’s head was laid on the execution block. Ned walked over to him, followed by Theon, who carried his sword for him. Ned’s sword was a greatsword made of Valyrian steel named Ice. Peter had always found it fascinating, how thin it was and yet so strong. Strong enough to hack a man’s head of, like it was about to be used for. Eddard Stark asked the Night’s Watch man if he had any last words. The deserter seemed to be saying something, but Peter could not understand what it was that he said. Then lord Eddard spoke as he took hold of Ice with both hands, “In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the first Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, by the word of Eddard of the house Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I do sentence you to die.” Lord Eddard raised the sword and Jon moved closer to Bran, “Keep the pony well in hand,” Peter heard him whisper to his half-brother, “And don’t look away. Father will know if you do.” Bran listened well to his half-brother, he kept his pony well in hand and did not look away when Lord Eddard Stark beheaded the deserter with a single swift stroke.   
One of the horses bolted at the sight and the smell of the blood that had sprayed out of the man’s body. The snow around the executioner’s block, which was in reality not much more than a tree stump, darkened as it drank the man’s blood. The head had bounced off and landed at Theon’s feet. This seemed to amuse him greatly and he put his bot to the head and kicked it away. Jon saw it too and muttered, “Ass.” Peter silently agreed with him. Then Jon put a hand on his half-brother’s shoulder and said, “You did well.” Peter agreed with him on that as well.   
“The deserter died bravely,” Robb said as they were riding back well ahead of the main party, “he had courage at the least.” “No,” Jon said quietly, “It was not courage. This one was dead of fear. You could see it in his eyes.” Jon’s own eyes were dark, almost black, but there was almost nothing they did not see. He might have been the same age as Robb, but they were nothing alike, Robb was muscular, Jon was slender. Robb was Strong and fast, Jon was graceful and quick. One would not say that they were half-brothers, not if they did not know their story. Peter himself was somewhere in between the two of them. “The Others take his eyes,” Robb swore, clearly unimpressed. “He died well. Race you to the bridge?” “Done,” Jon said, kicking his horse forward. “Peter, you too?” Robb asked. “You’re on,” Peter said. And the three of them raced off, leaving Bran behind them. The boy was smart enough not to try to follow them, he knew his pony could not keep up with their horses.   
The boys raced to the bridge, but then Robb halted, both Jon and Peter noticed and turned back around. “What is it?” Peter asked him. Robb held up his hand as if to tell him to be silent and listen, “You hear that?” he whispered. Jon and Peter listened and heard. I high squealing noise. “What is that?” Jon asked. “Let’s see,” Robb said. They followed the sound and came upon a dead creature. It was huge and hairy, Peter stood up in his stirrups to get a better look at it, “That’s a wolf,” he said. “It’s big for a wolf,” Robb commented, “too big.” “Yes, and look at the proportions, the head is too big,” Jon said. “It’s… but that can’t be,” Peter said, “There are no direwolves at this side of the Wall.” “Well, there was one,” Jon said. Then they heard the squealing noise again. “Look,” Robb said as he pointed towards something moving, “Her pups.” The other boys saw them too now. “I’m gonna tell father," Jon said and he rode off.   
Robb and Peter got closer to the pups, there were five of them, all grey bundles, their eyes still closed. “The cold will kill them,” Peter said. “It might,” Robb said. That’s when Peter spotted the other dead wolf, this one with three pups at her side. “Look, there’s another one,” he said to Robb. “With three pups…” “Yes, with three pups. You think direwolves live in packs like the normal kind does?” “I don’t know, Robb said, but it sure looks like it. Maybe they were sisters.” “Yes, maybe they were.” That’s when Jon arrived with their fathers and the rest. “Gods,” Theon exclaimed as he saw the wolves. His hand reached for his sword. Jory Cassel, the captain of the guards, had already drawn his sword, “Boys, get away from them,” he called out. Robb grinned, he had lifted one of the pups up in his arms, “They can’t hurt you. They’re dead, Jory.” The rest, who had come after Theon and Jory had reached them on foot by now, their horses were standing near the bridge. Jory and Theon dismounted as well. “What in the seven hells are they?” Theon asked. “They’re wolves,” Robb told him. “They’re freaks,” Theon said, “look at the size of them.” Theon looked at the great shaggy shapes, both half buried in the bloodstained snow. Ice had formed in their shaggy furs and there was a smell of corruption in the air that clung to them like a woman’s perfume. Peter saw disgust on his face.   
“They’re no freaks,” Jon said calmly. “They’re direwolves. They grow bigger than the other kind.” “There’s not been a direwolf sighted south of the Wall in two hundred years.” “I see two now,” Jon replied. Then suddenly Bran gave a cry of delight. It seemed he had spotted the pup in Robb’s arms, for he walked over to his brother and reached out towards the pup. “Go on,” Robb told him. “You can touch it.” Meanwhile Peter collected the three pups of the other wolf and brought them over with him. Bran gave the pup a quick stroke, then he turned as Jon said, “Here you go,” and put another pup in his arms. “This one has five pups.” “The other one has three,” Peter said. “Direwolves loose in in the realm, after so many years,” muttered Hullen, the master of horse. “I like it not.” “It’s a sign,” Jory said. “This is only a dead animal, Jory,” uncle Ned said, yet he seemed troubled. Snow crunched under his boots as he moved around the bodies. “Do we know what killed them?” He asked. “This one has something in her throat,” Robb said, proud to have found the answer before his father even asked. “The other one has something in the chest,” Peter said. “There, just under the jaw,” Robb said. Uncle Ned kneeled down and groped under the body of the wolf with his hand. He gave a yank and held it up for all to see. A foot of shattered antler, tines snapped off, all wet with blood. Peter looked back at the other beast, the thing embedded in her chest looked much like it was another part of a stags antlers.   
A sudden silence descended over the party. Everyone looked at each other, but none dared to speak. Uncle Ned threw away the antler and cleaned his hands with the snow. “I’m surprised they lived long enough to whelp, at least this one, the other one, her pups seem older by at least a week.” Peter looked at the pups and saw that he was right, the ones he was holding did indeed seem bigger. “Maybe she didn’t,” Jory said. “I’ve heard tales… maybe the bitch was already dead when the pups came.” “Born with the dead,” another man said. “Worse luck.” “No matter,” Hullen said. “They be dead soon enough too.” “The sooner the better,” Theon agreed as he drew his sword. “Give the beast here, Bran.” “No,” Bran cried out. “It’s mine.” “Put away your sword. Greyjoy,” Robb said and for a moment he sounded as commanding as his father. “We will keep these pups.” “You cannot do that boy,” said Harwin, the son of Hullen. “It be a mercy to kill them,” Hullen himself said. Bran looked at his father for rescue, Peter turned to his own father as well. Anthony Stark’s face was unreadable, smooth as ice, or iron. It fitted his nickname, Iron Man. He did not get this nickname for his smooth face though, but because he slept in ring mail during the war, so no one would stab him or cut his throat while he was sleeping. “Hullen speaks truly son, better swift death than a hard one from cold and starvation,” uncle Ned said. “No!” Bran insisted. Robb resisted as well, “Ser Rodrik’s red bitch whelped again last week. It was a small litter, only two live pups. She’ll have milk enough.” “She’ll rip them apart when they try to nurse.”   
“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him speak to his father so properly. “There are five pups,” he said. “Three male, two female.” “What of it, Jon?” “You have five trueborn children. Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.” Peter turned to his own father, “Those direwolves were likely related, look at them, father, they look so much alike. And this one had three pups, two females and one male. You have two children, Darcy and me and Maester Luwin says that mother is carrying a daughter.” Father and uncle Ned exchanged looks, the men around them exchanged glances as well and uncle Ned’s face changed. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” uncle Ned asked. “The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon said to him. “I am no Stark, Father.” Uncle Ned regarded him thoughtfully. Then Robb spoke up to fill the silence. “I will nurse him myself, Father,” he promised. “I will soak a towel with warm milk, and give him suck from that.” “Me too,” Bran echoed. “I will do the same,” Peter said to his father. “And Darcy and I will look after the third pup for as long as our sister can’t, but we’ll make sure that she knows to listen to her.” The lords weighed their sons carefully. “Easy to say and harder to do,” uncle Ned said. “I will not have you wasting the servants’ time with this. If you want these pups, you will feed them yourselves. Is that understood?” Bran nodded eagerly. “The same goes for you, be sure to inform your sister about this,” Father said to Peter. “Yes, Father, I will.” “You must train them as well,” uncle Ned continued. “You must train them. The kennelmaster will have nothing to do with these monsters, I promise you that. And the Gods help you if you neglect them, or brutalize them, or train them badly. These are not dogs to beg for treats and slink off at a kick. A direwolf will rip a man’s arm off his shoulder as easily as a dog will kill a rat. Are you sure you want this?” “Yes, Father,” Bran said. “Yes,” Robb agreed. Uncle Ned looked at Peter, “Yes, uncle.” “The pups may die anyway, despite all you do.” “They won’t die. We won’t let them die,” Robb said. Keep them then, Jory, Desmond, gather up the other pups, it’s time we were back to Winterfell.”   
They were all back on their horses, passing over the bridge when suddenly, Jon stopped. “What is it Jon?” Uncle Ned asked him. “Can’t you hear it?” All Peter heard was the wind, and the clattering of hooves on the ironwood planks of the bridge, with the occasional hungry wine coming from one of the pups he carried. But Jon was listening to something else. “There,” Jon said and he swung his horse around and galloped back across the bridge. He dismounted when he reached the first dead direwolf they had seen, there he kneeled. A moment later he was riding back towards them with a smile on his face. “He must have crawled away from the others,” Jon said. “Or been driven away,” uncle Ned said as he regarded the pup. It’s fur was white, it’s eyes were red. All others of her litter had been grey, with their eyes still closed. Odd, Peter thought. “An albino,” Theon said with wry amusement. “This one will die even faster than the others.” Jon gave his father’s ward a long, chilling look. “I think not, Greyjoy,” he said. “This one belongs to me.”   
When he came home, Peter went straight to his sisters’ room to show her what they found while Father explained it all to Mother. Mother didn’t seem to be too happy with it, but she did see the point of the whole, “They were meant to have them” thing. Mother believed in such things. “What’s going on down there?” Darcy asked as she opened the door after Peter had knocked. Then she saw the little wolf pups he was holding. The male and one of the females, the smallest female he had left with their parents. “What is that?” “It’s a direwolf,” he said to her. “Well, it’s two direwolves, actually, there’s a third one but she’s for our little sister, this one is for you,” he said as he handed her the female pup.” “What?” “Uncle Ned and Father said we could keep them. Our cousins all have one as well, from another litter, but… you know. Now we all have a direwolf.” “But, what about their parents?” “They’re dead, otherwise we couldn’t have taken them with us.” “That’s… strange… how did they even get here, on this side of the wall?” “I don’t know,” Peter said. “Does it matter?” Darcy shook her head, “I guess not.” “We should name them,” Peter said. “Yes, we should, maybe we should come up with a name for the one of our little sister as well, since she wouldn’t be able to do so herself for months… you know, when she’s born.” “Yeah, you got a point there. So, you got anything yet?” Darcy looked her pup over, “Hmmmm, I kinda like Sif, it sounds like the name of a warrior.” “Sif, huh? That’s cool, mine has a pretty dark fur so I think I’ll be calling him Shadow.” “Sif and Shadow, that sure sounds quite nice together.” “Yeah, it does. I wonder what our cousins will name their wolves.” “Yeah, so do I.” Then Peter told Darcy what uncle Ned and their father had told him and his cousins. Darcy nodded, “I can do that.” “Well, in that case, let’s celebrate that we have our own pets now.” “How?” “Uh… good question, I’ll come back on that later. I think we should feed them now anyway.”   
Peter and Darcy fed their pups the same way Robb said he would feed his pup, after which both pups promptly fell asleep. “They’re cute, aren’t they?” Darcy said. “You know, in a vicious I could tear your pinky off when I get a little bigger, kind of way.” Peter looked at his sister with a slightly puzzled look on his face, “What did you just say?” “Nothing, just forget it.” “Uh… I will, I guess.” “I wonder if anything interesting will happen anytime soon.” “More or less interesting than the pups?” “Good point, the pups are indeed very interesting.” “I thought so.” “But you know me, I like it when there’s stuff going on in Winterfell.” “Yeah, cause that hardly ever happens.” “Indeed. Peter, can I tell you something weird?” “Go ahead.” “I feel like something is going to happen… and I feel like it’s going to lead to something bad.” “Something bad?” “Yes, something bad.” “How bad are we talking about?” “I don’t know, not for sure, but I feel like it’s going to be bad in a big way.” “Well… I guess we’ll have to see if something big actually happens.” “Yeah, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I used some parts of the books... Yes, Tony is Peter's father in this world and yes I put Darcy Lewis in here cause she's awesome. Thank you for your consideration.


	5. Darcy

The next morning Darcy’s feeling of uneasiness turned out to hold ground. A raven had come in the night. Black wings black words. Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King and the brother-in-law of Darcy’s aunt, Catelyn. Jon Arryn had been an old man, but he had always been in good health. But that wasn’t the worst part of it all yet. The King was riding for Winterfell with his whole family and a whole lot of his followers. Normally this would have excited Darcy, but after the feeling of uneasiness she’d been having for days all she felt was a sense of dread. It almost felt as if doom was riding with the King.  
“I don’t like this,” Darcy said to her brother. “What? You don’t like the King coming over? King Robert Baratheon, who fought side by side with our own uncle? Who killed Prince Rhaegar Targaryen?” “Yes, that, I don’t like that. Remember what I said to you last night?” “About how you feel like something is going to happen, something bad?” “Yes, that.” “What could that have to do with the King.” “Well, the Hand of the King just died…” “Jon Arryn, an old man. Darcy, sweet sister, you shouldn’t see that as a bad omen, old people die every day, that’s just life.” “It still doesn’t feel right to me.” Peter rolled his eyes, it was clear he didn’t believe Darcy, he probably even thought it was some women’s superstition. Darcy felt disappointed and misunderstood. She’d had feelings like this before, feelings that something good or something bad was about to happen, and she always had been right. She had even said that their sister was going to be a girl, when their mother had only been with child for two moons, but no one ever wanted to listen to her when it counted.   
Just a few hours later Darcy was dragged out of her father’s halls by her cousin Sansa for sewing classes with the Septa. “Did you hear it?” Sansa said. “The King is riding for Winterfell, he’s coming here with the Queen and their children! And with a lot of knights! There’s going to be a big fest to welcome them, it’s going to be lovely!” “Yes, I heard.” “You don’t sound happy,” Sansa noted. “I know… I’m a little tired.” Darcy didn’t want to tell Sansa what she was feeling, she didn’t want to worry the young girl. “Oh, you didn’t sleep well?” “No, I didn’t.” “You know, I could ask the Septa if you could skip sewing class, just for today.” “No, I think I’ll be fine.” “Okay.” Sansa sounded relived that her cousin was okay.   
Eventually Darcy and Sansa found the Septa and Arya, who was already sewing. Arya looked both bored and concentrated, the Septa looked at her in disapproval. Arya hated sewing, Darcy knew that, she had never been good at it and the Septa kept comparing her work to Sansa’s, which only made it worse for Arya, cause Sansa was great at sewing. Darcy was pretty good at it herself, but it wasn’t something she liked to boast about, especially not in front of Arya. One time Darcy had started to yell at the Septa for how she treated Arya, after this she hadn’t been welcome to the Septa’s classes for a week, but the Septa never treated Arya any differently. Darcy hoped someone would dismiss the woman from her post, but no one ever did. Not even Lady Catelyn when Darcy had told her how awful she was towards Arya, she thought Darcy had been exaggerating.   
“Stupid Septa,” Arya mumbled as she was working. Darcy sat down on the stool next to her. “Good morning,” she said. “Wish it was,” Arya replied. “You heard about the King coming too?” Darcy asked her to lighten the mood. Arya nodded, “Yes, I do. I’d love to see the knights and the guards that come with him.” Arya had always been more interested in swords than in sewing needles. “Really now?” “Yes, especially the Hound, I heard he wears a hound head shaped helmet.” “That would be some nice craftsmanship.” “Yes… I guess.” “Hey, a blacksmith must be talented to make such things.” “That is true, yes.” “Well then, then it’s some nice, maybe even some great craftsmanship, right?” “Well, it’s certainly better than mine.” “Has Septa Mordane been hard on you again?” “Of course she has, it’s all she does.” “She ain’t the friendliest of Septas, that’s for sure. But hey, don’t let her get you down, sewing isn’t that important a skill when you’re a high lady.” “I guess.” “You can pay someone to make your clothes for you.” “That is true.” “And that person can pay for their food.” “I guess that’s good too.” “It sure is.” “But Septa Mordane says I need to know how to sew to get a husband.” “Really now?” “Yes, but I don’t want a husband.” Darcy smiled, Arya definitely had a free spirit. Arya looked at her and smiled too. Sometimes it seemed to Darcy as if nobody else accepted this of Arya, well, except Jon and uncle Ned of course, and maybe Bran too. Darcy wasn’t sure about Robb and Rickon was too young to understand why Arya was different from other ladies. Sansa always said she thought Arya was weird and she and her friend Jeyne used to tease her a lot. Darcy once asked them to stop and for a while it seemed to be less worse, but Jeyne eventually kept on teasing Arya. Sansa, not as much as Jeyne, but still, she never stopped.   
*  
The day the King would arrive Darcy got up early to go to the Godswood, Sif followed her closely as she moved through a dark and misty Winterfell. As soon as she reached the Godswood she made for the Weirwood tree. A big white tree with red leaves on it. It was there that Darcy kneeled down to pray. She prayed to the old Gods, like a Northerner does. She prayed to the old Gods and she asked for their protection. Not just for herself, but for her family and friends as well. Sif sat at her side, waiting patiently. It was almost as if she was keeping watch over Darcy. Darcy thought she looked at her with approval as she sat there praying to the old Gods. “You guys really are smarter than ordinary wolves, aren’t you?” She said as she was done. Sif cuddled up to her, then suddenly she went to stand in front of Darcy as if to protect her. Then Father appeared out of the mist and Sif relaxed. “Darcy, what are you doing here?” Father asked. “I was praying,” she said. “Before daybreak?” “It’s usually the best time to go here,” she told Father. “Nobody will come here.” “Except for me it seems. I never thought nobody else would come here to pray before daybreak, alas, my own daughter has proven me wrong,” he said with a smile. “What’s troubling you?” “It’s… it’s the King that’s troubling me. I feel like… like he’s bringing danger.” Father regarded her for a while, then he nodded. “I see. You feel like something bad is going to happen again, huh?” Darcy nodded. “Darcy,” he said as he pulled his daughter into his arms, “listen to me. Nothing bad will happen to us, okay? The King is a good man, a strong man, he doesn’t bring any danger with him.” Darcy sighed, again, she was not taken seriously.   
Darcy sat there with her father for quite a long time. They watched the sun rise, they heard the castle become noisier and noisier as the sun climbed higher. “We should go,” Father eventually said. Darcy nodded. “And Darcy, like I already said, there is nothing to worry about, okay? Everything is going to be fine.” Darcy nodded, she decided to just listen like she had done so many times before. It saddened her that people didn’t want to listen to her, but she was getting used to it and frankly, there was nothing she could do about it. So she took Father’s advice and tried not to worry. To no avail of course, for her gut feeling that something bad was about to happen did not want to go away. Not even when she was standing in the second row of the crowd, her brother and her mother on her sides, her cousins, her uncle and her aunt standing on the front row. All of them, even Arya, who was of course a little late. Jon was somewhere behind them, which Darcy found unfair. He might not have the name, but he was a Stark too, end he belonged up front with them. Theon was somewhere farther back too, this was a choice Darcy did agree with. She had never really had a good feeling about Theon, it was almost as if he was waiting for the right time to betray the Starks. It least that’s how it seemed to her.   
The King’s people poured through the gate in a river of gold and silver and polished steel. Three hundred man had followed the King to Winterfell, well, three hundred of his guards at least, the rest of his entourage was not allowed inside the castle gate. Over their head, a dozen golden banners with the black stag of the Baratheons whipped back and forth in the cold northern wind. Some of the riders Darcy had heard of, like the Queen’s brother, Jaime Lannister with hair as bright as beaten gold. A handsome man, even Darcy couldn’t deny that. In contrast there was Sandor Clegane, with his burned face. Next to him rode a tall boy, younger than Robb. This had to be the crown Prince, Prince Joffrey. He had his mother’s hair and some of his uncles beauty. Behind him rode the sister’s other brother and the Prince’s other uncle, Tyrion Lannister. A stunted looking dwarf. Most people called him The Imp, Darcy had heard. She had also heard many tales about him, it was said that he drank all night, but it was also said that he spent all night reading. She wondered which one, if any, of those tales was true.  
The huge man at the head of the column got dismounted his horse with a grunt and walked over Uncle Ned to pull him in a uncomfortable looking hug. “Ned! Ah, but it is good to see that frozen face of yours.” The King looked Uncle over, “You have not changed at all.” Darcy knew that Uncle couldn’t say the same thing about the King. She had heard the stories about Robert’s rebellion when she was younger. The King had been described as a handsome and strong looking man. Now he just looked fat and not very kingly at all. Of course, Uncle couldn’t say this, for it would likely anger the King, “Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.” He said instead. By then all of the others were dismounting as well and Darcy noted that there were some interesting people in the King’s company. Two girls who had the Tully look were riding with two Lannister cousins and the King’s younger sister herself. I wonder why he brought her, Darcy thought as she was looking at the Princess.   
Then the King spotted Father. “Anthony, well have I ever. You have become a man!” The King said. Father just smiled, “I already was, Your Grace, I had my wife pregnant before my brother did.” The King laughed, “Hah, I heard you did, yes. How are your children faring?” “They’re well, Your Grace.” The King looked at Darcy and Peter, then his eyes dwelled over to Mother. “I see you got one more coming.” “Yes, another daughter they say.” The King nodded and greeted Aunt Catelyn by pulling her into one of his uncomfortable looking hugs, while Uncle greeted the Queen by kneeling down in the snow and kissing her ring. Then the little Princes and Princesses were brought forward, as well as Darcy’s cousins. Princess Maria was brought forward as well, just like the two other girls, who turned out to be Aunt Catelyn’s younger sisters. Aunt Catelyn greeted them both with a hug, although her sisters seemed a little uncomfortable with it. Darcy understood that, they looked to be around the same age as her, so they probably hadn’t seen Catelyn all that much, if they had ever met her at all.   
When the formalities had passed, the first thing that came out of the King’s mouth was, “Take me down to the crypt, Eddard. I would pay my respects.” Uncle seemed to be happy to hear those words and called for a lantern. The Queen, however had begun to protest. They had been riding since dawn, everyone was tired and cold, surely they should refresh themselves first. The dead would wait. That was all the Queen had said, but the King had looked at her and her twin brother Jaime had taken her by the arm, and she had said no more.   
Darcy had understood the Queen’s reaction. She had heard why Robert had started his rebellion. It had been for her Aunt, her Father’s sister, Lyanna. Robert had loved her and he still did. The Queen did not like this. Darcy wouldn’t have liked it either if her husband had had more love for a dead woman than he had for her.   
As she stood there, thinking, the crowd slowly scattered, in the end the only people still standing there were Darcy, the Tully sisters, Arya and Princess Maria. The rest had gone back to work or back inside to hide from the cold. Arya was making conversation with her aunts, who didn’t seem to mind her activeness and. Darcy decided to walk over to the girls, and as she moved a shadow bounded to her feet. “How did you escape the kennels?” Darcy asked Sif. Sif just looked at her, and then Nymeria ran towards Arya and the girls screamed. Arya laughed and told them there was nothing to worry about. “They’re our friends,” Arya told them. They all looked at her, stunned. Then they looked at Darcy as if for conformation. “Our brother’s found them in the woods,” she explained. “Two dead direwolves with living pups at their sides, both of them with stags horns sticking from their bodies. One of them had three pups, the other had six pups, of which one was an albino. They boys said we were mean to have them, that it was a sign, because a direwolf is the sigil of house Stark.” One of the Tully girls laughed, “Wanda, could you imagine Edmure finding a dead trout with five baby trouts by her side?” Wanda grinned, “Natasha, please, they might think we’re ridiculing them.” “Oh, sorry.” “It’s fine.” Darcy said. “No offense taken, trouts would make for a ridiculous pet.” “Yes, they would,” Natasha said. “That was the point I was trying to make.” “I would love to have a doe for a pet,” the Princess joined into the conversation. “Way more fun to a doe than there is to a trout,” Wanda said. The princess smiled, “Yes, I guess there is.” “You’re Princess Maria Baratheon. Are you not?” Darcy asked. She gave her half a smile,” Yes, I am, but please just call me Maria, I don’t like being called a Princess.” Arya grinned, it was clear she liked the Princess’s attitude a little, for Arya always hated it to be called a Lady. “I’m sorry to ask, but who are you?” “She’s my cousin,” Arya said for Darcy, “Darcy Stark, eldest child of Anthony Stark.” “Ah, a highborn Lady,” Maria said. “Not as highborn a Lady as Arya,” Darcy said, mostly just to tease her cousin. “I’m not a Lady,” Arya said, just as Darcy expected. Maria grinned.   
The girls talked for a while longer, and Darcy quickly befriended both the Tully sisters and Maria. Then Arya and the Tully’s were called in by Aunt Catelyn and Darcy and Maria remained outside. “Is nobody going to call you in, or going to look for you.” She asked the Princess. Maria shook her head, “No, my brother knows I’ll be fine, so do the other guards, they usually have a hard time keeping me in line so they have decided it might be best to let me be most of the time. They won’t come for me as long as I stay within these walls.” “So, if we decided to go riding one of your guards would have to come along?” Maria sighed, “Yes, one of them would have to come along. Quite annoying if you ask me.” “Well, I know all about annoying people.” Darcy said, without even realizing this might sound bad. “Really?” “Well… yes. It’s mostly my family that annoys me, but I guess that’s normal.” “What is it that your family does that annoys you so much?” Darcy sighed, “Well, sometimes I feel like they have a hard time taking me seriously.” “I know that feeling.” “You do?” “Yes, you know, I don’t want to be a Princess… I… I want to be free, I don’t like that, just because I’m a woman, I can’t make my own choices. I want to be a fighter.” “Wow.” “Do you have the same problem?” “Well, no, that’s more what Arya has. My problem is different.” “Will you tell me?” “Well… you’ll probably just think I’m crazy.” “I promise I won’t.” Maria said looking sincere. “Well… there’s this weird thing that I have. Sometimes, I feel like something good or something bad is about to happen… and well… it actually happens. Mostly it’s just a gut feeling, but, when my mother just found out she was carrying I said it was going to be a girl, and… a few moons later the Maester said the same.” “Aha…” “I know that sounds really weird.” “I actually think it sounds quite interesting.” “Really?” “Yes.” “Well, even if I say I had a bad feeling about your brother and his people coming to Winterfell?” Maria thought about that for a while, “Anyone in particular?” “Uh… well, yes, Jaime Lannister, and the Queen as well, but… also Bran, I feel like something is going to happen to Bran.” “Your cousin Bran?” “Yes.” Maria nodded, “Well, I guess you’re hoping you’re wrong?” “Yes, yes I am.”   
Not much later Darcy was called inside herself by Mother. “Darcy, you have to get ready for the feats tonight!” Darcy groaned, “Oh that’s just great, I completely forgot about the feast.” Maria didn’t seem to be too happy about it either, “So did I, wish I didn’t have to go, but of course the King’s sweet little sister can’t mean the royal feast, huh?” “I’m afraid she can’t, no, but hey, maybe we can be bored at the feast together.” Maria smiled, “Sounds like an interesting plan.” “Good, I’ll see you at the feast then.” “Yes, see you ate the feast.” The ladies parted ways, both of them to get ready for the royal party that was to be kept in the great hall of the castle.   
*  
At the royal feast, Darcy and her brother were seated at the same table as their cousins and the princes and princesses. Robb had been given the great honor of walking Maria to her seat. Sansa had been given the honor to walk with Joffrey, which she seemed to love. Arya had been given the honor to walk with plump little Tommen, which she didn’t seem to like all that much. And Bran walked young Princess Myrcella to her seat. The King and Queen were seated at the high table, Uncle Eddard, Aunt Catelyn, Father, Mother, and some other high lords and ladies.   
The feats started and the food was served, first to the King of course, then to the Queen, then to everyone else. Darcy was happy that the food was being served, for she was quite hungry. She was also quite happy, for she had been seated next to Maria. But there was something about Maria that seemed off. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” Darcy asked her softly. Maria sighed, “No, not really.” “Why?” “I… I can’t really tell you, it’s something my brother did.” Darcy remembered Maria had entered the hall with Robb, and something told her Robert had proposed a marriage. “Oh.” Maria looked at Darcy in confusion. “I feel things,” Darcy whispered to her. “Remember? I should have seen this coming, I have been wondering why your brother brought you with him, but I guess I can’t… see, everything.” “Yeah, I guess.”   
Maria cheered up quickly as she and Daisy were talking. Meanwhile the King was flirting around with other women, and Jon was feeding his direwolf, Ghost, scraps of food. This was one of those moments Darcy envied Jon. She wished she could have taken Sif with her too, but she was a Lady, where Jon was a bastard, so she had been seated at a high table, where her parents could watch her every move and Jon was seated with the commoners, where no one could watch him, except for the commoners of course. Up at the high table Cersei and Aunt Catelyn were talking with each other and Darcy felt as if there had been more than one wedding proposal, she looked over at Sansa and Joffrey. Sansa seemed to adore the boy. Yes, that seems about right. But there must be more the King has offered Ned, Darcy thought. But what? She had a feeling she would find out soon enough. And she had a feeling that whatever it was would mean bad news for Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tam tam taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam


	6. Clint

“Brother, are you sure about this?” Clint asked his big burly brother. “Yes,” his brother said grimly. “It is the only way for me to go back to Westeros.” “Spying on a child? Is that the only way for you to clear your name?” “I will be doing it in the service of the King, Clinton.” “Clint.” Jorah sighed, “Clint.” “Is it really that important for you to go back to Westeros?” “It is,” Jorah replied. “Why?” “I want to tell Father I’m sorry for dishonoring the Mormont name.” “By spying and quite likely murdering a child and.” “Viserys is not a child.” “He’s as good as! And what about his sister? Are you sure he’s selling her to the Dothraki for an army?” “I am. Now that’s enough of this, Clint.” “Is it? Because you still seem determined to do this!” “I need to be pardoned by the King!” Jorah said. “Otherwise I’ll never be able to go back to Westeros!” “You can have a good life here, you can make a home for yourself here, why do you feel the need to go back to Westeros.” “Because, it will always be my real home.” Clint sighed, he was getting tired of these conversations with his brother, but he still felt like what his brother was doing was morally unacceptable. Spying on and when the time comes killing, two innocents, just to clear his name, bring honor to his name, so he can go back to Westeros. But is killing two innocents really that honorable? But then the question arose, who was the man without honor, was it his brother, Jorah, or was it the King, Robert Baratheon? Did it really matter?  
Not long after their conversation a Dothraki rode up to them, “Jorah the Andal, Clinton the Andal,” he spoke in the common tongue, “come.” This was probably about as much of the common tongue this Dothraki spoke. His brother had learned how to speak the harsh language of the Dothraki, but Clint, who only visited his brother from time to time, hadn’t bothered. The Dothraki warrior too them to the Khal, who questioned Jorah. Clint had no idea as to what was going on. He just looked at the Dothraki wearily, hoping he hadn’t offended them and could go home soon so he could be with his wife and three children again. He wanted to visit the wall soon as well, to check on its defenses and to check on his father, who was the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.   
As the conversation between Jorah and Khal Drogo went on, Clint was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable, but then the Khal smiled and dismissed them. As they were out of hearing, Clint asked his brother, “What was that about?” “Khal Drogo wants me to attend the wedding, he has taken a liking to my presence.” “Can’t imagine why,” Clint whispered. His brother had always been a grim man. “I heard that.” “Of course you did.” “He respects me for my fighting skills.” “so, are you going to that wedding?” His brother nodded, “Yes, and there I will pledge my service to Viserys.” “And he will fall for it because you are from Westeros.” “Indeed. From there on I will follow the King’s orders.” “What a King we have, one who trembles at the thought of a young man with no wealth or army on the other side of the sea.” Jorah sighed, “Can you stop this?” “Jorah, it-.” “No, I don’t want to hear this, I’m doing this Clinton, whether you agree with it or not.” “I hope you realize that if you do this you will lose my respect?” “And I shall grieve that loss, but, I might get some forgiveness.” “Maybe from the King, but not from anyone else.” And with those words Clint made his way to his tent.   
*  
The next morning Clint woke early to pack for his journey home. He rose with the dawn and his brother rose with him. “You shouldn’t leave yet,” Jorah said. “And why not?” “Because Khal Drogo might take it as a slight if you leave before his wedding.” “You want me to stay here to see the savage married to the daughter of our old King?” “He might not welcome you in his Khalasar anymore if you don’t.” “So he’s both a savage and easily offended.” “Most savages are.” “Most savages are too stupid to know when you’re insulting them.” Jorah smiled slightly, “Most savages are both. Too stupid to see when you are insulting them and easily offended.” “I guess you’re right about that.” “But you should stay.” Clint sighed. Why did his brother have to go through with this? “My family misses me.” “Then can miss you for a little longer. The wedding will be soon. Besides, I would like it to have my brother by my side for a little while longer.” “I have been here for a fortnight.” “Just stay here, I promise you that you can go after the wedding.” Clint sighed again, “Fine then, I will stay till after the wedding, but then I will be going home to my wife and children.” Jorah almost smiled, “I am glad to hear that, brother.”   
Clint unpacked the stuff he had packed, then he did what he always did as he was traveling with the Dothraki. He broke up camp and got on his horse. And just like any other day he spent with the Dothraki, all they did was riding through the tall grass. Clint had grown tired of all the grass he had seen, but he knew Jorah was right. Khal Drogo would feel insulted if he did not attend the wedding, so he decided he could bear the look of some more grass. He could even bear the stink of the horses and the stink of the horsemen themselves. The stink of sweat and other bodily fluids always clung to the savages, Jorah seemed to be immune to it by now, but Clint, who only traveled with his brother and the horsemen occasionally was bothered by the odor.   
“It was a wise decision of you to stay, brother.” Jorah said as he rode up next to him. “For you it’s a stupid decision,” Clint told him. “Maybe.” Clint sighed, “You really are stubborn, do you know that?” “Aye, I do, it’s what makes me such a good fighter. I’m too stubborn to give up.” “Sometimes it’s also what brings you in trouble, like that business with the King.” Jorah sighed, “This again? We talked about this yesterday. You couldn’t talk me out of it then and you can’t talk me out of it now.” “I’m sorry to hear that. There are more honorable ways to get pardoned by the King.” “What is more honorable than slaying the King’s enemies for him?” “Slaying his enemies who are actually your equals. Look, you and I have both seen Viserys, from a distance, yes, but he’s not a fighter, he’s not even fighter material. Would you agree with me on that?” “Aye, I agree.” “Then how could you find honor in slaying him?” “I won’t go at him with my sword. I will poison him. Besides, I haven’t even been ordered to slay anyone yet. I am yet to receive more orders.” Clint sighed, “I cannot believe you are actually going through with this, brother.” “You have said that many a time already.” “And I’ll keep saying it till you finally come to your senses.”  
They rode for a whole day, but slowly, as if searching for something. Clint started to wonder fi maybe Khal Drogo was looking for a wedding location, which seemed weird, now that they had left the grass behind and they were riding to what seemed to be a wasteland. “Pretty spot,” Clint mumbled. “You know, you could show some respect towards the Dothraki,” Jorah told him. “Why? They can’t understand what I’m saying anyway.” Jorah sighed and shook his head. “Is that why you like to be in their company so much? So you can just ignore what I’m telling you and you can move on with your stupid plan?” “It’s not stupid, all I’ll be doing is keeping watch over the King’s enemies.” “Yeah, and you might possibly arrange their demise. You will earn their trust and bring them down.” “Why have the Gods given me you for a brother?” “To talk some sense into you I’d guess.” “But your guess is as good as any.” “If that’s what you choose to believe.” “Yes, that is what I choose to believe.” Clint sighed, “Sometimes you sure are very hard to reason with, brother.” “It must be a family trait then.”   
After that they rode in silence for quite some time, till they set up camp even. Clint was busy setting up his tent when his brother came to him again. “You need help setting up your tent?” He asked. “I have been setting it up on my own all the time I’ve been travelling with you.” “It goes faster if I help.” “That is true, everything goes faster with help.” Jorah walked over to help Clint with his tent. “Look,” he said after a long silence. “I know that what I’m doing is not the most honorable thing, there is no need for you to tell me that. But, I asked the King, or the King’s council, after all I heard from you I’m not sure who actually rules Westeros, what I can do to be pardoned. This is the answer I was given.” “In that case there is a big chance your order comes directly from the King.” “It also means there really is no other way for me to be pardoned. I have to keep watch over the last two Targaryens, whether I like it or not.” Clint sighed, “How many times do I have to tell you that you could start a new life here?” “Till I don’t want to go home anymore. I want to be able to look father in the eye and tell him I’m sorry for dishonoring the Mormont name, Clinton. Do you understand that?” Clint nodded, “I do understand that, yes.” “Then can you please don’t make this any harder on me than it already is?” Clint nodded, “I think I can do that, yes.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, brother. But I will still be leaving after the wedding.” “I didn’t expect otherwise. You have a family to go back to, a family that needs you. If there is one thing I’m glad for it is that you have that and that I have you.” “Those are two things, brother. But, why exactly are you so glad to have me?” “Because you, unlike the rest of our family, didn’t abandon me.” “Well… you are my brother. Family is important to me, Jorah.” “I still want to thank you for that. So, I got something for you.” “Is that why I lost you in the horse crowd?” “That is why you lost me in the Khalasar, yes. I was retrieving it. I had arranged a meeting with a Westerosi blacksmith.” He handed something to Clint. It was a knife with a blade as long as his lower arm. It was shaped like an animal’s tooth, the pommel was a black bear’s head with green eyes. Clint looked at the weapon in awe, “Thank you, brother.” “I thought it fitting for a Mormont to have a weapon with a bear…” “It is. Would it be strange if I named it?” “Many weapons have names.” Clint nodded, “Than I’ll name it Beartooth, for it has the shape of a bear’s canine.” “It’s a very appropriate name indeed.” Then Clint hugged his brother, “Thank you, Jorah.” “Well, you earned it, for staying by my side when no one else would.”   
That night Clint thought about how hard it must have been for his brother that the rest of their family had abandoned him. I cannot imagine what it must be like to have my family abandon me… Clint thought. And he did not want to find out. His family did not know that Clint visited Jorah, he was afraid they would shun him to for still calling a man who brought dishonor to their family name a brother. The only one who knew that he visited Jorah was his wife, Laura. Laura did not disapprove of him visiting Jorah, she wasn’t always happy about it, but she understood his reasons. She would have visited her family too, if she could. But she couldn’t, most of her family had died in Robert’s rebellion. At least her father and her brothers, she had a few nieces and nephews, but she didn’t know them all that well and because of that she didn’t feel like visiting them all that often.   
As Clint was laying there in woolen blankets he thought about what else his brother had said. That the King had given him these orders, and that there was nothing else that he could do to earn a pardon, according to the King. It made him doubt the king even more than he already had, for Clint had never really liked the King, not after the rebellion when he had gotten fat and lazy and had sired who knows how many bastards. He sighed as he thought about it, “Our great King Fatass of Whoretown,” he whispered to himself. He was glad there were no Westerosi people around who could hear him. “Sometimes it pays off to be surrounded by savages, who would have thought?” Sleep took him not long after that.  
The morning after that there was no breaking up of the camp. Jorah informed Clint that Khal Drogo had decided to stay right at this spot till he was wed to Daenerys Targaryen. “And when will that be?” he asked his brother. “Soon,” Jorah replied. “Don’t you worry. Just look around you, preparations are already being made.” Clint did as his brother told him, he looked around and wandered the camp. He saw the Dothraki preparing for… something. Is this really how they prepare for a wedding? Clint wondered as he saw two of the horse people dancing almost naked through the camp. They sure have… strange habits. Then again, our habits and wedding preparations might seem weird to them. It’s just the way you look at it I guess. Man, I wish I had some beer. Clint hadn’t had any good beer for a fortnight and he was starting to long for some. Here the people drank fermented milk, which wasn’t really to his tastes. And because the Dothraki didn’t have cows it was mostly goats milk or horse milk. Which, frankly, disgusted Clint. He preferred wine, ale and beer over any kind of milk, and especially over horse milk, which was why he mostly drank water when he visited his brother in Essos.   
He wandered the camp for quite some time, taking time to exchange words with the Dothraki warriors who spoke some of the common tongue. However, none of these conversations lasted long. When a Dothraki warrior reached his limit of the common tongue Clint excused himself and said he was going to look for his brother. Whom he eventually found accompanying the Khal. A Khal is the mightiest man of a Khalasar, and Clint knew that Jorah and he should feel honored to have the Khal’s respect, since he was like a King, or maybe more like a Lord, since there were more Khalasars and more Khals. Yet Clint never felt like he should feel honored by having a savage respect him. Jorah always told him it that that was because he did not understand the Dothraki culture. Clint wasn’t sure if he wanted to understand the Dothraki culture. What culture was there about riding horses and raiding villages? Maybe his brother was right. Maybe there was more to these people, but Clint had yet to see a reason for him to get to know these people better, for him to learn more about their culture. And since he did not have a reason, he didn’t feel like getting all that close to these savages.   
Even so, he did join his brother and the Khal, who were drinking fermented milk. The Khal turned to him and presumably asked him if he wanted any milk as well. Jorah answered for him and the Khal sent someone away to fetch water. Clint didn’t need to ask his brother to know that the Dothraki was fetching water. His brother knew him well enough to know he did not like the fermented milk.   
It didn’t take long for the Dothraki to come back with a can of water and a goblet for Clint to drink out of. Clint nodded in thanks when the goblet was handed over to him. It was a habit of his the Dothraki found strange. They never thanked each other, that was a habit Clint found strange. He had asked Jorah about it once, but even Jorah didn’t know why they never thanked each other. Jorah and the Khal continued to talk and make jokes with each other, while Clint sat there feeling awkward and drinking his water, wondering what they were talking about. Eventually, as their conversation went on, the shadows began to lengthen and Jorah excused the two of them.   
“Well, that sure was a very interesting conversation,” Clint said as they were walking to their tents. Jorah shook his head, but it was clear that he was slightly amused by his brother, “Are you sure you don’t want me to teach you the Dothraki language.” “I am for now, who knows, maybe I will change my mind someday.” “You know where to find me when you do.” “If I ever change my mind about this, I sure do. At least, if you keep sending me messages as to where you are going.” “Don’t worry, brother, I will do that.” “Good, otherwise I might show up at the wrong Khalasar and they’d kill me.” “Well, it would be a tragedy, except for the fact that the world would be rid of your terrible humor.” “Says you.” “I guess being good at telling bad jokes is another thing that runs in the family then.” “Seems like it is.” “Well, you should know it better than me, you have spent more time with them than me.” “In that case, yes, it is.” “I thought so.” “Except you’re sometimes also bad at making bad jokes. You’re like father in that. Always so serious.” “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Clint had expected nothing less. “Good night, brother.” “Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little short for my doing, but I felt like I was messing up, so, here goes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the prologue of the story. Other chapters migh appear soon. Depends on if I feel like posting.


End file.
